


Unpredictable

by Zero0



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Dwight is confused, Jim gets hurt, M/M, dwight is overcompensating, unspoken connection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zero0/pseuds/Zero0
Summary: Dwight is always unpredictable. Jim knows that every time he messes with Dwight, it's a gamble. But Dwight goes overboard this time, and Jim really gets hurt. He's not sure how Dwight didn't expect that.
Relationships: Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	Unpredictable

Jim was pretty exhausted, so he was understandably excited to get home. He had had a long day, and was looking forward to collapsing in bed as soon as he got to his room. He hopped out of his car and took off for the front door of his apartment, trying to sort out the key in his hands.

Suddenly, a shadow flashed in front of him in the darkness, and a sharp pain shot through his abdomen as he took a sucker punch to the stomach out of nowhere. He crumpled to the ground, falling to his knees immediately as the pain flashed through him like lightning. 

Before he could process anything that was happening, he was kicked swiftly in the ribs, causing him to fall off his knees and onto his side on the ground. He instinctively curled up and covered his head as best he could as more kicks came from all around. He started hearing laughter from his attacker.

“Revenge! Revenge!” the voice laughed. Jim’s hearing was fuzzy and out of focus, but he immediately knew it was Dwight. He laid helplessly as the last few kicks came. One of them slipped past his arms, knocking him square in the side of the head. Dwight continued to jump around and laugh after he was finally done. 

“I got you! That’s right! How does it feel, Jim? To know that I’m the superior one after all? You still think you’re so great?” he asked triumphantly. Jim cracked his eyes open, and immediately winced from the pain. His vision was worryingly blurry. 

Dwight was grinning down at him with a childish, juvenile smile. He still thought this was all part of a game. 

Jim slowly risked uncurling himself from his tense, defensive position. He took a breath in to say something, but ended up coughing instead of speaking. He could feel blood starting to run from his nose. Dwight’s eyes flicked down to his victim. A realization kicked in. 

“What, you can’t even take a good surprise beating?” Dwight’s words were teasing, but his tone betrayed the true worry in his voice. Jim took in another breath, determined to speak this time. 

“Dwight, what the fuck?” he managed to say, finally. 

Dwight crouched down. Jim had a nosebleed that was running down his face and onto his shirt. There was already a dark purple lump forming on his head where he’d been kicked. 

“I didn’t mean to hit your head.” 

Jim would have responded with an insult if he had heard him. His head was spinning and his ears were screeching, he was certain he was close to passing out. Tears dripped from his cheeks. He hadn’t even known his eyes were watering. This must have caused Dwight to spring into action mode, because Jim could feel his hands on him. It might as well have been for further torture, as his hands grazed over all his injuries, causing sharp pains to shoot through his ribs, leg, back, head. 

Suddenly, he was being heaved off the ground. Pain flooded his senses, crowding out everything else until everything went black.

When Jim regained consciousness, he realized he was in his own bed. He remembered what had happened immediately, and was flooded with pain as a reward for his senses returning. He looked over to see Dwight sitting in a chair next to his bed. 

“Your injuries aren’t that bad,” Dwight said. “You probably just passed out because you were caught off guard.” 

Jim really couldn’t think of anything useful to say in response, so the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Dwight grew visibly uncomfortable, and shifted around in his seat.

“You were only out for a few minutes,” he finally said. 

Jim regained enough of his bearings to push himself up into a sitting position. He locked eyes with Dwight. Dwight looked a little frightened of what Jim would say.

“So what the hell was that?” 

Jim had already gone past confused, past angry, and had arrived at acceptance. He knew he should have been pissed, been screaming, been pressing charges- but, he cycled through emotions way too quickly when it came to Dwight. Dwight was gonna do what he was gonna do, and while Jim couldn’t even remember what he’d done to trigger this, he was sure he deserved it in one way or another.

“Revenge,” Dwight said quietly. He seemed ashamed of his own answer. Jim nodded.

“Well,” he sighed. “Did you get good enough revenge?” 

Dwight shifted more in his seat. His eyes flew around the room, avoiding eye contact.

“I didn’t mean to hit your head,” he repeated. 

“Mm,” Jim hummed in response. Speaking of which, his head was throbbing and his ribs were killing him too. He closed his eyes and pulled his knees up to his chest. He gently rubbed his bruised temple as he rested his head on his knees. He sat in silence for a while, willing the aches to stop. 

His eyes snapped open when he felt the bed dip down beside him. Dwight had moved from the chair to the bed, and Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Jim was surprised to see that he truly looked concerned. Dwight opened his mouth, but took a few seconds to finally speak.

“I’m sorry.” It came out in an almost whisper. Jim was a bit shocked that Dwight was able to get the words out. It couldn’t have been easy for him. Jim realized that he must have been a sight for sore eyes, though. Bruises everywhere, blood trail from his nose down to his shirt, constantly wincing. 

Jim reached out and put a hand on Dwight’s shoulder.

He should have said, “it’s okay” or “it’s not that bad” or something like that. But, he didn’t. The physical contact said everything he needed to say.

Dwight suddenly burst into tears at the touch. Jim let his hand slide from his shoulder onto his back, rubbing small circles while Dwight sobbed into his own shirt sleeves. 

How did it always end up like this, with Dwight? Nothing is ever predictable. That’s part of the fun, of course. Messing with Dwight has always been fun, in a slightly dangerous way. He originally thought he was only wagering his shitty paper job if he went too far. He hadn’t expected to get a beat down outside his own apartment. And he hadn’t expected Dwight to be sitting here in his bedroom, the only place Dwight was never supposed to be, sobbing on his bed. 

“It’s something else, right?” Jim wagered a guess. “Something else is wrong?”

Dwight nodded through tears. His face was still hidden, buried in the elbow of his shirt. His breath was coming in sharp, shaky bursts. 

“You wanna tell me what it is?”

Counseling Dwight while nursing the wounds he caused. Another thing Jim could have never predicted in a million years. 

“No, I…” Dwight tried to collect himself as best he could. “I can’t talk about it.” 

The gears in Jim’s head clicked. He understood. It suddenly made sense to him why Dwight would go this far overboard. Overreacting to a prank, waiting at his apartment for what must have been hours, and feeling the overwhelming guilt directly after. 

“You were overcompensating, right? For… a different emotion?” Jim tried to tease out the answer as tactfully as he could.

Dwight nodded. 

The unspoken answer hung thick in the air as they both began to understand what had truly been confessed. Dwight stayed perfectly frozen, waiting for some kind of reaction. Jim gave the smallest of nods, reassuring him. Answering his unspoken question. Relief flashed through his eyes.

Suddenly, Dwight cleared his throat and swiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes for a final time. He made to sit up, and Jim felt himself speak without thinking.

“You’re staying, right? For the night?” 

Dwight was staring at him, confused. It was as if he was trying to figure out if this was an invitation or a trap.

“I mean, I’ve probably got a concussion or something right? You should probably stay to make sure I won’t die,” Jim said. Dwight rolled his eyes.

“You’re not going to die, Jim. The Schrutes get beatings worse than that every year on their birthday.” His voice sounded mostly normal again. The condescending tone matched the expression on his face. “We call it “The Gift”, and it’s done to remind all the Schrute children of all the bad things they’d done that year. Everyone in the family partakes. I’m not sure why you’re whining about it.”

Jim smirked. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about his bruises, or about what Dwight had confessed to. He was just glad that Dwight was sounding more like Dwight again. He had no idea why that was comforting to him, or why he wanted him to stay. He was only sure that whatever became of them, it would be perfectly unpredictable.

“So you’re staying?”

“Of course I’m staying.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really love this pairing. I also love Jim and Pam, so I tend to hang these works in a mysterious place between her existing and not. It seems like Dwight and Jim always have an unspoken connection, and I wanted to express that in the way they communicate the important parts and emotions without much dialogue. Just a very short, intense snippet from a world not meant to be expanded upon or explored. I'd love to do more for this pairing in the future.
> 
> Slightly inspired by that part in 'A Classy Christmas' where Dwight actually beats the shit out of Jim with the snowballs. I forgot exactly how badly Jim was physically injured during that.


End file.
